


To Be Alive (09/24/2003)

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-02
Updated: 2006-04-02
Packaged: 2018-08-16 00:15:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8079397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Any time of life, it's good to be alive. (09/24/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Title and summary are from the Def Leppard song "To Be Alive" off _Euphoria_ (1999).  


* * *

The chirp of the door chime made Trip look up from the report he was reading. "Come in," he called, a bit puzzled at who would be at his door at this time of night. 

The door slid open and Porthos bounded in, leaping onto the bed and licking his friend with unabashed delight. Trip laughed, gently trying to push the dog away. "Hey, I'm glad to see you too," he told the beagle before looking up at the man still hovering in the doorway. 

Malcolm Reed smiled, a smile still tinged with sadness. "Sorry about this. We were on a walk when we passed your door and he, well..." 

"He insisted on coming in?" 

Malcolm nodded. "I didn't mean to bother you." 

Trip shook his head. "It's not a bother. I was still awake anyway, reading the reports from Engineering." He waved toward the couch at the other end of the bed. "Have a seat." Porthos had already made himself comfortable at Trip's feet. 

Malcolm sat down, resting his forearms on his denim clad legs, eyes fixed on the floor. He was in civilian clothing, a rarity for the man. He was always on duty, it seemed, during this past year. More so than before his promotion. Sometimes, it worried Trip that Malcolm rarely seemed to stop. If he wasn't on the bridge, he was in the armory, or the gym, or listening to a crewmember's problems. Plus, there had been the usual rounds of away missions and injuries and first contacts in the past eight months. Trip often wondered if Malcolm was always working so that he didn't have to stop and think, to remember what he had lost. 

Trip knew he'd made the right choice in making Malcolm his second in command. He couldn't think of a better man to have at his back if there was a problem. But that didn't mean he didn't regret holding out this lifeline to him when he saw Malcolm using his new rank as a shield from the memories and grief that were caused by simply being on _Enterprise_. 

Watching Malcolm as he sat on the couch, Trip realized that this was one of the few times that Malcolm had been in the captain's quarters since Trip had been promoted. He couldn't avoid them altogether, not when he had to report something to Trip regarding crew rosters or the latest crisis and this was where Trip was. Still, he rarely came here like he had tonightâ€”off duty and without an apparent reason. Other than Porthos wanting to see his friend, and maybe thinking he needed to be here instead of Malcolm's quarters. 

"God, Trip, I still miss him." 

The low whisper was so full of anguish that Trip had to close his eyes against his own pain. He, too, still missed Jonathan Archer. There had been times, in the first few months after the man's death, that he still expected to see Jon when someone called "captain" in the hallways. He had found himself turning around, hoping to see Jon before suddenly realizing they were hailing him. He was the captain now. 

Putting on his uniform in the mornings was the worst. It wasn't the familiar red of ships services and engineering anymore. It was the gold of command and navigation. The four rank pips made him cringe. He still didn't think he deserved this rank that Starfleet Command had bestowed on him, though others on board ship would be quick to dispute that. 

"I do too, Malcolm," Trip replied softly. 

"The nights are the worst. Nothing to distract me from the memories. Or the dreams where he's alive again, and here, smiling and laughing and annoying the hell out of me with his command style, but in private being everything I remember." 

"You loved him so much." It was a statement of fact. Trip had seen the way the two had acted in private, when the ranks were gone and they were simply Jon and Malcolm. He had also been privy to the depths of Malcolm's grief in the early days. A grief that was shared between them, for Trip had loved Jonathan Archer in his own way. Not a romantic love, but a deep and abiding friendship that Trip had known he was lucky to have. One he still missed when the pressures of command got to be to much for him and he didn't have the support system that Jon had. Their friendship had been such that Jon could turn to Trip at any time with any problem. Trip didn't have that kind of friend on board with Jon gone. Sure, he and Malcolm were friends, but Trip hesitated to put any more on the man's shoulders than he already carried. 

Trip reached out to absently pet Porthos. The beagle thumped his tail, brown eyes still fixed on Malcolm. He whined softly, picking up on the Commander's mood. Porthos had moved with Malcolm from the captain's quarters after Starfleet had promoted Trip. Trip would have kept Porthos with him, in familiar surroundings, but he had known that both the dog and the man needed the comfort each other's presence would provide. Even now, Malcolm responded to the whining by reaching out to rub behind Porthos' ears. Malcolm was always putting someone else's pain before his. Trip had, more than once, offered him a sympathetic ear, but Malcolm had merely shook his head, saying Trip didn't need his problems. 

"Tell me about him," Trip said now, watching Malcolm. "I knew Jonathan Archer the captain, the friend, the water-polo fiend," that got a small smile from Malcolm, "but I wasn't the one he fell in love with. And he did love you, Malcolm." 

Malcolm sat back, pressing the sides of his hands against his eyes and leaning his head against the top of the couch. "Where do I start?" he asked softly. 

Trip sat back against the bunk. Thos four words represented a minor victory in the battle to heal Malcolm Reed's soul, and Trip didn't intend to let the man close himself off again. "How about the beginning? I mean, well, you know how I found out about the two of you bein' together, but I never asked Johnny about how you two got together." 

Malcolm smiled broadly, a genuine smile of humorous remembrance, as he folded his hands behind his head and looked at Trip. "Bit of a shock, was it?" 

Trip chuckled. "Hell yeah. Came off a late night mess hall raid to find the ship's armory officer pinned to the wall of a turbolift by the cap'n, both of you kissin' like the other was your last meal. Just a bit of a shock." He shook his head. "I mean, I knew Johnny was bi. He hadn't kept that a secret, but I always figured you were straight, what with your ramblin's about T'Pol's bum on the shuttlepod. An' I never would have expected you and Johnny to hook up even if I had known." 

Malcolm shrugged. "I'm bi, I just don't admit it often. I'm not comfortable opening up, you know that." He stretched his arms out along the back of the couch, staring at the wall opposite him. "I suppose you could say our relationship started in a Romulan minefield. He was bloody determined not to let me sacrifice myself for the ship, though I kept telling him the ship was more important. In between disarming the mine and all that, we really got a chance to talk. After that, well, it became easier to open up to him. We became, well, I suppose, friends. Not the way you two were, but something other than merely captain and lieutenant." 

"I remember him talking about some of that. He was happy that he finally got you to loosen up a bit. Not that I could see it on duty, but I did notice that you were doing more off duty than hangin' around in the armory or the gym." 

"Jon encouraged me to get out more, and when I didn't, he took matters into his own hands. I ended up learning a lot about water polo, though I'm not much into sports." Another true smile from the British man. "I don't like the water, yet I fell in love with a man whose favorite sport is played in a pool." 

"I had a girlfriend once who merely had to look at a piece of machinery to have it mess up in some unusual and spectacular way. Guess there's just no telling who will strike our fancy." 

Malcolm gave a small laugh. "I never expected our captain to be the man who struck mine. It was more than just his looks, it was...everything. Especially the way he didn't pressure me, even after he made it clear that he was interested in me." 

Trip smiled and sent a mental pat on the back to wherever the soul of Jonathan Archer was. He knew how frustrated his friend could get when he was interested in a person who wasn't as obviously interested in him. More than one of Jon's relationships had exploded in his face when he moved to fast. _You must have really wanted Malcolm to go that slow when it went against your nature, Johnny. Good for you_ , Trip thought. 

Malcolm got up from the couch and went over to the window, leaning an arm against the bulkhead and resting his head against it as he stared at the stars streaking by. For long moments, the only sounds in the cabin were the muffled whoosh of the air vents and the whistling of Porthos' light snores. 

"It was probably about a month before you caught us that our relationship began in earnest." A pause. "Two years ago tonight, actually." 

Trip stilled, realizing why Malcolm had been so on edge the entire day. Why he was so willing to talk tonight. Today should have been a day of celebration for the two men, a night with a special meal from Chef and perhaps some romantic gifts and maybe even some dancingâ€”upright or otherwise. 

Instead, Jonathan Archer's body was encased in a torpedo, floating in the cold vacuum of space following a deadly diplomatic mission on a supposedly peaceful planet, and Malcolm Reed was now a commander on _Enterprise_ , his heart encased in the ice of loss. 

"I didn't know," Trip said. 

"You couldn't have known. It was something between us." 

"You could have said something. I would have --" 

"What? Given me the day off?" Malcolm shook his head. "I appreciate the offer, Trip, but I needed to work. Needed to keep my mind off what today was." 

Trip nodded. 

"He first kissed me one night when we were in here, talking about books. I said something, he laughed, then leaned over and kissed me." Malcolm let out a soft sigh, but didn't say anything more. Trip assumed he was lost in memories of that night with Jon, and other nights. Most of which had taken place in this room. 

"I never thought that I'd be lucky enough to have someone think I was worthy of being loved." 

"You are worthy, Malcolm. Jon loved you. Porthos loves you. I'd say I love you, but I'm afraid you'd hurt me." 

Malcolm chuckled, turning around to face the other man. "I love you too, Trip. As a friend." 

Trip smiled, then started as Porthos took in a breath on a snort. "That dog," he said with a grin. 

"He's spoiled and he knows it." 

"You're as bad as Jon was," Trip said. 

"I'm not the only one, Captain." It pleased Trip that the flash of pain that usually accompanied his title was no longer in Malcolm's eyes. 

"Okay, so I'm bad too. Then again, he's one of the last links..." 

Malcolm sat on the bed and rubbed Porthos' belly when the dog rolled over. "He's a last link to Jon, I know. It helps to have him around at night." 

"You sure you're okay, Malcolm?" Trip didn't like the expression in the man's eyes when he talked about Jon. There were times when Trip still wondered if Malcolm would try to follow his lover into the afterlife. 

"I'm...surviving. I'm alive, and there were days when I wasn't sure about that being a good idea. If you hadn't given me something to keep me going, I'm afraid I would have done something more stupid than I tried in that minefield." 

"Malcolm --" Trip's voice was strangled. The Englishman looked up, smiling. 

"There were dark days, Trip. But you and Porthos and everyone helped me get through it." 

Trip reached out and grabbed Malcolm's hand. "Malcolm, I lost one friend. It would have killed _me_ to have lost another so soon afterward." 

"I know, Trip." He squeezed Trip's hand. "I finally decided it was better to be alive."


End file.
